So Much For Sanity
by Blitz
Summary: You know the drill. Let's play find the Self-Insertion.
1. Prologue

Summary: There's a new girl at Smallville High. She begins to have an interest in Clark, but most likely not in the way your dirty little minds are registering.  
  
Disclaimer: I own Sterling Joan DeRobertis and her family.   
  
So Much For Sanity  
By Blitz  
  
:: You walk into a pitch black room. All is silent. All is dark. You look around you, wondering where to go now. You look down, realizing there is no floor beneath you, only pitch blackness. There are no walls, there is no ceiling, there is nothing save for you. Suddenly, there is a staticy, dulled click as an unseen spotlight flashes onto the host of the production, the marvelous tale which is yet to unfold before your eyes. She is a girl, looking no more than 13, but in fact she is nearly 16 years old. She has short, wavy brown hair and dark blue eyes. She wears A black pleather coat over a black t-shirt with a red rose on it. She wears a choker, a black cuff with several long spikes on it, a brown leath cuff, ample eyeliner, mascara, black nailpolish, and black lipstick. She also wears a long, velvet, black skirt with safety pins up the slit. She steps one step closer to you, smiles slightly, and begins as you notice others around you.::  
  
Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen, to my, Blitz's, Masterpiece Theater. If by "Masterpiece" you mean "Soon-To-Become Classics" and by "Soon-To-Become Classics" you mean some crappy writing I wrote just cuz I felt like it, then, yes, Masterpiece. And if by Theater, you mean a large building with a stage, and if by that you mean yourself in front of a computer screen with a Dr. Pepper a foot away, growing stale and developing some sort of biotic skin that you think you may send to a laboratory to have checked out and swarms of paper around your desk, then yes, this is a Theater. And if by Blitz, you mean, me, a teenage prodigy and if by that you mean a little wise-ass that has nothing else to do than annoy the hell out of people with awful, overdone jokes, then yes, it is I, Blitz.  
  
Please. Sit down.  
  
Please.  
  
No! Don't get up!  
  
For the love of tap-dancing Christ, sit your asses down before I go nuclear on ya!  
  
Thank you. That's better.  
  
Now let me set the scene for you: Smallville. An accurately named town with not much going on inside it. Or so one would think. Here in Smallville, there is a young boy named Clark Kent who, annoyingly enough, looks as if he should be in college. Instead, he is around 15 years old.  
  
There is also Lana Lang, who has eyes that are large enough to be one of dem anime critters.  
  
There is Lex Luthor, who has a girly name and is bald, making him look a future Patrick Stewert. But he is a fellow wise-ass, so I'll leave him alone.  
  
There is Whitney Fordman who also has a girly name, making everyone feel some pity toward the men of Smallville. How cruel a life they must lead. Whitney is dating Lana, though many of us already know he is just kidding himself by dating a girl.  
  
Then there is Chloe Sullivan. She writes for the Torch, a newspaper evidently started by fellow pyromaniacs. God bless their little fire-starting hearts. She is into the supernatural, so she will be left well enough alone also.  
  
And then there is Pete Ross. Maybe a knock-off of Pete Rose? We have yet to see. He is one of the only guys in this show without a girly name and I don't know him. He's just there. I'll attempt to take shots at him throughout this episode, however.  
  
Then there are Mr. and Mrs. Kent and Aunt Nell. They're just there. I don't know why. They should just all go away. Please make them go away. They're wise-ass intolerant and don't agree with me.  
  
There is one last character I have yet to name, and that is a young girl, new to Smallville. She makes her way onto the scene one sunny day in Autumn . . . 


	2. Cheese Rabbits

Summary: There's a new girl at Smallville High. She begins to have an interest in Clark, but most likely not in the way your dirty little minds are registering.  
  
Disclaimer: I own Sterling Joan DeRobertis and her family. The song in this is "Even Angels Fall" by Jessica Riddle  
  
So Much For Sanitiy  
By Blitz  
  
"Cheese rabbits!" Sterling Joan DeRobertis blurted out as she jolted out of bed at 7:00 in the morning. She paused, placing her hand to her forehead, a very bewildering look on her face. "_Cheese_ rabbits?" she asked herself. She pulled herself out of bed and headed quickly for the shower. She had an hour and a half to be dressed and ready for school. Plus the few minutes it would need her to get on the school bus. "_Cheese_ rabbits?" she asked herself, repeating the nonsensical words over to herself a third time. "No more Starbursts before bed," she told herself, though she knew it wasn't the Starbursts. She was just weird.  
  
Hopping out of the shower and nearly tripping over the towerl wrapped around her, she quickly dressed herself in comfortable blue jeans and a black t-shirt with three guitars on it, one red, one yellow, and one blue. Underneath it said "Rock" in gray lettering. She dried her short, brown hair quickly with a pastel green towel and hung it up on the rack, skipping the stairs quickly to find her usual breakfast of cereal. And not the good stuff, either. No sugar. Just oats, wheat, and nuts. There was, of course, some "Oat Clusters", but she didn't know what on earth those were.  
  
She jumped back up the stairs, nearly tripping again. She had 45 minutes left to do all she needed to do. She brushed her teeth, and then almost swallowed the green-mint generic mouth-wash. She then applied her black make-up and touched up her black nailpolish, then spread on the light blue lip gloss which she had conveniently "borrowed" from her sister. "Just one more thing to do," she said as she squeezed the blue hair gel into a comb. She carefully combed it in until her entire head was a dull yet neon blue. "Wha-la!" And 20 minutes left.  
  
She made sure her backpack was ready, flipped on the radio to a punk and alternative station, and bounced happily around the room, looking for a good novel to take to school. She found The Shining. Perfect. She put on a spikey bracelet and a leath cuff that her late Uncle Steven had left to her. She always felt he was near when she wore it.  
  
10 minutes to go.  
  
"! Bus is here!" her mother called.  
  
God damn that clock!  
  
Sterling, or Joan to her friends, rushed down the stairs. "Thanks, Mom! See ya!" She walked quickly to the school bus and walked in, pushing her backpack to the floor beneath her seat, but not before she pulled out  The Shining for some quick reading on the bus. Out of the corner of her eye, she sensed something, a sort of instinct that every creature - save slugs - were born with. She looked out her window and saw a blur of color. And then it was gone.  
  
She watched, as if waiting for it to return, whatever it was. It looked as if something was running past. "That's nice," she muttered, opening her book to Chapter 1. The bus lurched to a stop repeatedly, constantly jarring her out of her concentration. "Sonuvabitch," she mumbled quietly.  
  
Smallville High wasn't a large high school, but she preferred high schools that way. Less people to bother her. Less people to make fun of her. Less jocks. Less cliché cheerleaders. Less preps.  
  
She looked out the window at the students of Smallville High. Goddamit, they were all there! How on earth could everyone she ever hated somehow end up going to her high school?! The jocks . . . the cheerleaders . . . THE PREPS!!!!  
  
She sunk lower into her seat and groaned. After everyone had gone, she exited the bus. She suppressed a shudder as she passed a tall blonde student in a football jacket. He looked very smug.  
  
She wanted to kick his ass just for wearing the jacket and looking so preppy. "_Must be nice_," she told herself, "_Must be nice to preps_ . . . "  
  
The first bell rang and she hurried to her first class. Once she had successfully found her locker, failed open it, and then found her true locker and filled it with the books she didn't need, she found her class. Then she found the _right _class. She chose a seat next to the window, then was told that that seat was being saved for someone. So she found a new seat next to a tall boy with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes.  
  
She supposed he would be considered attractive by some, but would have preferred if he'd had a few more peircings, maybe spiked, dyed hair, some chain-belts, baggy pants . . . in short, if he'd changed his whole style. He turned and smiled at her. "Are you new here?"  
  
"Ever seen me before?"  
  
" . . . No."  
  
Joan gave him a knowing look.  
  
"Guess that answered my question."  
  
"Yeah, I guess so." _This isn't being nice to the preps, Sterling_, she chastised herself. She sighed. "I'm Sterling. You can call me Joan, though. It's my middle name."  
  
"Clark Kent."  
  
The last bell rang and the teacher shut the door with a harsh click. "Good morning, students. Welcome to another bright and shining Monday morning."  
  
The room echoed with groans.  
  
"Shut it."  
  
Everyone was silent.  
  
The teacher's gaze turned to Sterling. "Ah, yes. Sterling DeRobertis? New student here, if anyone has noticed." He looked her up and down. "And judging from the hair, I'd say it's fairly hard not to notice her." There were a few chuckles, but Sterling kept a stoic face. "Please, Sterling, come up and introduce yourself." He made a gesture towards the front of the class.  
  
Sterling stood up, the chair scraping against the ground, and sulked to the front of the class. "Hey, I'm Ster-"  
  
"Louder!" the blonde, preppy jock she had seen in the hall said.  
  
"Shut yer pie-hole!" she yelled at him. The class errupted in laughter at him.  
  
"*_Ahem_* As I was saying, I'm Sterling DeRobertis. Just call me Joan, though - "  
  
There were a few confused looks and someone asked, "Joan?"  
  
"Yeah. You know. Like Joan of Arc? Remember? A little bit psycho? Cross-dressed a lot? Had all these voices in her head?" There were a few giggles. "Yeah. I'm Joan, from California. I like to read, write, listen to Siouxsie and the Banshees - "  
  
"Who?" the jock asked again.  
  
"Here we go, into the history of the great and wonderful Siouxsie Sioux. Started band in 1979, lasted until 1994 when they broke up. In 1991, their hit single "Kiss Them For Me" was number 6 on the Top 40. Can I go now?" Sterling asked, this directed at the teacher.  
  
He nodded and she walked back to her seat.  
  
"That wasn't embarassing in the least!" she said in a happy, yet utterly sarcastic voice.  
  
"You didn't do too bad," Clark said.  
  
Sterling gave him another look, narrowing her blue eyes. She then turned her attention toward the teacher's lecture, pulling out her notes. Instead of writing down what he was saying, she drew pictures of vampires and one of a werewolf girl in a kilt, a black t-shirt, and spikey bracelets. A perfect punk ensemble, in her opinion. And class was over.  
  
One class over. Just six more. Six _loooong _classes left. And, of course, she had her powers.  
  
Strange, new girls in a rural town attending a new high school always had super powers. Or were wanted by the coppers. One of the two. It was just a fact of life. So far she wasn't wanted by the police, so she had to have super powers. And she did, which made things a lot easier for her because then she wouldn't have to achieve them through a radioactive spider bite or suddenly going mutant and getting red shades or pointy hair or a white streak down the middle of her hair and killing people with a touch. This all made things a lot easier for Sterling/Joan.  
  
Hers was an easy one to hide: flight and emitting red probability blasts from her hands which would alter the karma and probability of any situation. In short, she was just "lucky".  
  
She couldn't possibly see why others had such trouble. It was easy. She just followed one simple rule: JUST DON'T DO IT. But there was always an acception. Sometimes she needed to use her powers when people were around. Such as when she wanted to scare preps.  
  
As Sterling DeRobertis passed Clark Kent standing by a window, a girl with large eyes and long dark hair walking away from him, she thought she heard a faintly familiar song.  
  
"_You found hope  
You found faith  
Found how fast she could take it away  
Found true love  
Lost your heart  
Now you don't know who you are  
She made it easy  
Made it free  
Made you hurt 'til you couldn't see  
Sometimes it stumps  
Sometimes it flows  
Baby, that is how love goes  
  
You will fly and you will crawl  
God knows even angels fall  
No such thing as you lost it all  
God knows even angels fall_."  
  
"What's that?" Sterling asked him. She still had five minutes to get to class.  
  
Clark shrugged. I dunno. That just happens sometimes. Music just starts randomly playing around me."  
  
"At least it's good music."  
  
"I guess. It normally happens when something significant is happening. But it's only this loud when . . . "  
  
"When what?"  
  
"When this episode is ending," Clark finished. He shrugged. "Oh,well. See you in 7!"  
  
"See ya." Sterling walked back to her class as the song started up again.  
  
"_It's a secret no one tells  
One day it's heaven one day it's hell  
It's no fairy tale  
Take it from me  
That's the way it's supposed to be  
  
You will fly and you will crawl  
God knows even angels fall  
No such thing as you lost it all  
God knows even angels fall_."  
  
To Be Continued . . .   
  



	3. Changes

Disclaimer: Only Joan and Alexis are mine.  
Summary: Joan asks Clark something that's been on her mind recently.  
  
Chapter 2:  
CHANGES  
  
Joan woke up again the next morning. No Cheese Rabbits haunting her dreams. Good. However, there had been an unusually large amount of anime.  
  
She was afraid. VERY afraid.  
  
The blue was still in her hair from yesterday, however it was also on her pillow and sheets and her one-eyed cat, Reggie. She brushed the blue off all of them and Reggie purred in his sleep and twitched. Joan grabbed some clothes and was ready in less time because she didn't have to retouch her hair. Amazingly, it didn't was out in the shower! Smallville was a very strange town . . .  
  
Two seconds later, Joan had scrambled onto the bus and had forgotten that thought. She had been distracted by something shiney. Again.  
  
The ride wasn't as long as it had been yesterday because she had been trying to find a way to make her year more interesting. Last year, at her old school, the most interesting thing that she'd done was let her friend cut her hair. And she was still paying dearly for that.  
  
She figured it would be easier to make her life more interesting in a small town than a big city because there were more farms and thus more equipment to put interesting stuff into (i.e. a beanie baby into a wood chipper). She had done a fair amount of research on Smallville and, to her delight, had found that the town had been hit by a bunch of glowing, green meteors and, ever since then, little things had been happening. And around her, strange things happened, too. Adding the two together would prove to be a most interesting year.  
  
The school bus came to a stop and Sterling Joan DeRobertis grabbed her back-pack and stepped out of the bus, making a beeline for her locker.  
  
She managed to find her proper locker, but still broke into the other one just for the hell of it. Then she shut it. There was nothing worth taking, but she did leave a little bit of sandwich in the back where no one could see it. A nice, green, little surprise in a month or two. She went to her first period class, taking her seat next two Clark Kent again. She tried to imagine him with blue hair. It actually look good. In her opinion, though, everyone would look better with blue hair. You could never go wrong with blue. The second thing she noticed about him was there was something strange. Something she just couldn't place her finger on.  
  
She decided to chalk it all up to the fact that he was doing that thing where you close one eye, then open it and close the other, and alternate back and forth so it looks like the room is moving. And, since he lacked all winking capabilities, he had to rely on his fingers to close each eyelid. Special.  
  
Joan turned her attention back to the board. Clark was creeping her out.  
  
  
  
Break had begun and Clark, Chloe, Pete, and Joan were, once again, discussing Clark's love life, or lack thereof.  
  
"I still say you kick Jock-Boy's ass," Joan said.  
  
Clark shrugged. "I could, but I doubt Lana would like me very much for that."  
  
Joan shrugged and sighed. "Fine," she said. " . . . I'll do it." She started off in the direction of Whitney but Pete grabbed her arm.  
  
"No. Don't. Ya can't take him."  
  
"What? Why not?!"  
  
"Well, for one he works out. A lot. I watch him with my binoculars when no one's looking - "  
  
Everyone looked at each other.  
  
" - and second, he's about 6 feet tall and you're only 4 feet tall," Pete explained.  
  
"Hey!" Joan said indignantly. "I'm 5'1". And a HALF! And since I'm little, I can scurry around easier! Like some sort of hamster!" However, that little fact didn't convince anyone further. "What?! Those things are fast when they want to move! Believe me! And besides, I don't care what Lana thinks of me! I'm the perfect candidate!"  
  
"I say we let her loose."  
  
"That's what I'm talkin' 'bout, Chloe!"  
  
"Chloe, you're not helping," Clark said.  
  
Pete had let go of Joan's arm, but was ready to block her if need be. Joan was still trying to convince them that she could do it. "Fine. I won't try it. But what if, I dunno, I happen to be passing by, one of us trips, and I 'accidentally' kick him in the groin?"  
  
"NOOOO!!!!"  
  
Everyone stared at Pete.  
  
"I mean, uh, I don't think Lana or Clark would like that?"  
  
"Ahhh," everyone said, nodding. Pete scuffed his shoes on the ground.  
  
"Can I do anything to him?"  
  
"What makes you so eager to get him?" Chloe asked suspiciously.  
  
"He bugs me. There's just something about him that makes me wanna punch his little face in," Joan growled, balling her hands into fists.  
  
Everyone was silent for a while, then Chloe said, "You're a very violent little person."  
  
"Granted."  
  
The bell rang and people slowly started filing toward class.  
  
  
Later, at lunch, the next time they were all together, Joan tapped Clark on the shoulder. She had been waiting to ask him this question since they'd met and she prayed he'd say yes. He seemed to like her enough.  
  
"Clark?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Can I do your hair?"  
  
Clark looked at Chloe. No reaction. He looked at Pete. Still no reaction. He looked at his sandwich. It told him to go for it. He looked down at Joan. "Yeah, sure. I guess so."  
  
"Okay. Meet me after school at my house. It's the one with the one-eyed cat in the driveway."  
  
Clark gave her a weird look.  
  
"It's the one with the one-eyed cat in the driveway," she said again, slower.  
  
"Okay . . . then."  
  
  
  
After school that day, Clark was sitting in a wicker chair with a bowl of egg-whites on one side, a super glue bottle to the other, and in front of him was blue hair dye. He was very afraid.  
  
"Okay. What we're gonna do is - "  
  
"Can I watch?" a voice said from the doorway.  
  
"Yeah, sure. Clark, this is Alexis, my younger sister. Alexis, this is my new guinea pig, Clark."  
  
"Hi, Guinea Pig."  
  
The 14 year old sat on Joan's bed and watched as Joan squirted super glue onto Clark's head.  
  
"Okay, so this is what we're gonna do. First, I'm gonna dye your hair blue. Then I'm gonne let it set, and then I'm gonna spike it. Okay?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Too bad. Alexis, bar the door."  
  
Alexis obeyed as Joan combed in the blue hair dye. Within seconds, she had successfully made blue streaks in his hair and two points. "Hmmm . . . " she said thoughtfully, stepping back. "It kinda looks like Wolverine's pointy hair from the X-Men."  
  
"Is that the look we're going for?"  
  
Joan paused, then said, "It is now," and began to put the comb in a bowl of water and remove the blue of it. Alexis passed her a comb and held up one point as Joan combed egg-whites and super glue into it, creating one point. "Would you be totally against growing sideburns."  
  
"Uhhh, yeah."  
  
"Too bad."  
  
"Joan, you're obsess," Alexis said.  
  
"Shut it." Joan continued to work on the other side as the other point drooped and more super glue was added. After she was done, she stepped back, uncertain.  
  
"Hand me a mirror."  
  
"I don't think . . . "  
  
"A mirror!" Alexis passed a small hand mirror to him. He slowly brought it up to his face. He had two very defined Wolverine points. "NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"  
  
Outside, birds were disturbed and flew out of the trees.  
  
"There, there. It's not that bad." Joan looked up at Alexis and mouthed, "It is."  
  
Clark closed his eyes and sobbed into his hands.  
_  
"I close my eyes when I get too sad  
I think thoughts that I know are bad  
Close my eyes and I count to ten  
Hope it's over when I open them  
  
I want the things that I had before  
Like a Star Wars poster on my bedroom door  
I wish I could count to ten  
Make everything be wonderful again."_  
  
"Uh-oh," Joan said grimly, her attention turned toward her unusually tall younger sister.  
  
"What? What's 'Uh-oh'? And where did that music come from?" Alexis asked, a little frightened. "And where is it coming from?!" she asked as the music played on.  
  
_"Close my eyes when I go to bed  
And I dream of angels who make me smile  
I feel better when I hear them say  
Everything will be wonderful someday._"  
  
"It's coming from Clark. Clark! It's okay! It'll look better in the morning! I _promise_!"  
  
_"Promises mean everything when you're little  
And the world's so big  
I just don't understand how  
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes  
Tell me everything is wonderful now_"  
  
"Stop it!" Joan ordered.  
_  
"Na na na na na na na"  
_  
"Are you mocking me?!" Joan yelled at him as the music played on, then said sarcastically, "Oh, this is wonderful. Just wonderful."  
  
_"Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now"_  
  
"SHUT-UP! I told you! It'll look better by the time we get to school!"  
  
"_I go to school and I run and play  
I tell the kids that it's all okay  
I like to laugh so my friends won't know  
When the bell rings I just don't wanna go home"  
  
Go to my room and I close my eyes  
I make believe that I have a new life  
I don't believe you when you say  
Everything will be wonderful someday  
  
Promises mean everything when you're little  
And the world is so big  
I just don't understand how  
You can smile with all those tears in your eyes  
When you tell me everything is wonderful now  
  
I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now_"  
  
"STOP IT!"  
  
_"I don't wanna hear you say  
That I will understand someday  
No, no, no, no  
I don't wanna hear you say  
You both have grown in a different way  
No, no, no, no  
I don't wanna meet your friends  
And I don't wanna start over again  
I just wanna my life to be the same  
Just like it used to be  
Somedays I hate everything  
I hate everything  
Everyone and everything  
Please don't tell me everything is wonderful now_  
_  
"I don't wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now"  
  
_OOC: If you don't know where I'm going with this strange tale, that's okay. Neither do I.  



	4. And Things Get Worse . . .

Chapter 3:  
AND THINGS GET WORSE . . .   
  
The next day at school, Clark Kent was reduced to wearing a hat. He had taken several showers, but the super glue was state of the art and held fast. He still had two tiny points, but mostly it stuck out at the sides.  
  
Joan honestly didn't know what she was thinking, though she had gone over it in her mind many times before. She had apologized profusely and Clark had told her it was okay.  
  
"Lana won't notice!" she had said  
  
But Lana did. And she was staring at the top of his head. Joan, however, took full responsibility for it. But, no matter how she tried to apologize and no matter how many times he told her it was okay as Whitney laughed, she still felt as if she had to make it up to him.  
  
So, as a gesture of friendship, she sat with Chloe and watched the football practice. It had been a long day. She sat beside Chloe with her head propped on her hand and trying insanely hard not to fall asleep and giving the cheerleaders a look that Ally McBeal would give to a Big Mac. For some reason, they had always annoyed her. Maybe it was the pom-poms, maybe it was the tiny little skirts, maybe it was the fact that one of them had forgotten to wear undwear on occasion . . . repeatedly. She just wasn't a big fan of cheerleaders. She perked up, however, as they're pyramid of teenage girls fell over.  
  
"Oooh," Chloe said, flinching. "That must've hurt. Maybe Lana shouldn't have left the squad."  
  
"I say that if they forgot she was on the bottom, they deserved that."  
  
"Point well taken."  
  
The cheerleaders got up to try again. And fell over. But, third time's a charm, and the managed to stay up with three cheerleaders doing cartwheels on the ground. Finally, not being able to take it anymore, Joan used her probability altering power to knock them all over again.  
  
"Wow, did you see that?" Chloe asked. "They just fell over. Again! It was almost as if something supernatural did it!"  
  
"Really. A pyramid of accident-prone cheerleaders fell down. Alert the authorities," Joan said dully.  
  
"No," Chloe said, very seriously. "They wouldn't believe me . . . " She rubbed her chin thoughtfully and Joan scooted away from her to the edge of her seat.  
  
Before she knew it, Chloe had taken out her handy-dandy, novelty, over-sized, black camera and had snapped a picture of the heap of cheerleaders. "This will be on the front page of the school newspaper!"  
  
Joan was about to say something against placing a picture on the front page of the school newpaper of ten teenage girls in cheerleading uniforms on top of each other, but decided against it. She wanted to see where this would go. "Okay. Sure. Whatever you say. I'll read your article the moment it comes out."_ I'll even help you sort the fan-mail from the teenage guys and dirty old men from the angry parent and teacher letters. _But Joan didn't vocalize that thought. Instead she continued to watch Clark and Pete repeatedly run into other members of their team and run around with a football. She wasn't very big on sports unless they had to do with paintballs and cats with lasers strapped to their back, running around and shooting people while the players dodged out of the way and hit them with the paintballs and the cats were really big and vicious . . .   
  
Five minutes later, Sterling Joan DeRobertis had invented a new sport. But, once she had finished with that, she was forced to continued watching the football practice. Whitney was running toward Clark. Suddenly, his ankles tangled with each other and he fell flat on his face. There was nothing he could trip over and no one could have shoved him. Once Clark had an extra moment, he looked up into the stands. Chloe and Joan smiled and waved. A thought crossed his mind: someone had tripped Whitney . . . but how? He put this thought out of his mind and continued with his football practice, intent on talking with Chloe about it later.  
  
  
Chloe, Clark, and Joan sat together in the coffee house. Lana had refused to meet them there, saying that the coffee house held "bad memories" for her. As soon as they had ordered their coffee, Chloe immediately delved into her most recent rant about supernatural happenings in Smallville. Both her companions immediately entered a state much like meditation where they stared ahead in space and nodded every once in a while.  
  
Soon, Clark realized that Chloe had been talking about the "Pom-Pom Brigade" falling over. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said, snapping out of his daze. "Whitney tripped, too."  
  
Joan cleared her throat. "Soooo . . . how about those 'Dead Can Dance'?"  
  
" . . . Who?" they both asked simultaneously.  
  
" . . . Never mind. Uhm, I think this is just all blown out of proportion. It's a well known fact that Whitney isn't exactly the quickest bunny in the field. He probably just got distracted 'cause he saw something shiney. As for the cheerleaders, no offense intended to them, but . . . actually there's no nice way to say they're dumb as a box of hair."  
  
Chloe looked at Clark. "She does have a point."  
  
"Still, I think something weird is happening again."  
  
Joan gulped. " . . . Again?"  
  
"Things have been weird in Smallville since that meteor shower."  
  
"Yeah. Chloe has a theory that it's caused by the meteor rocks."  
  
"The . . . meteor rocks?"  
  
"Geez, Joan, what is with you today?" Clark asked. "You're pausing a lot. Did you get hit in the head."  
  
" . . . Yeah."  
  
"Oooookay, then," Chloe said. "Anyway, it all makes since. Anyone who has any type of power was given their power by the meteor rocks! There's been a lot of cases."  
  
"Yeah, will I think those are just coincidences."  
  
"Why don't you want to believe this, Joan?"  
  
"Have you seen Chloe's Wall of Weird?" Clark asked. "It has every odd occurence since the meteor shower. And they _all _have ties with it."  
  
"As special as that is, I don't think there's a tie."  
  
"Fine. Believe what you want. But Clark and I will know the truth."  
  
The three finished their coffee in silence and then headed out the door to do some shopping.  
  
But fate seemed intent on outing Joan. A bicyclist swerved madly over the concrete curb.  
  
"Watch out!" Joan screamed, holding out her hands, a stream of red causing the bicycle's wheels to move a quarter of an inch, just enough so it would run into a parked car, denting it. Joan looked up, then turned to the other two, expecting some form of gratitude.  
  
Clark stepped back, then ran forward and head-butted her in the stomach, tackling her to the ground.  
  
"WHAT THE GODDAM FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! SONUVABITCH! GET OFF OF ME!"  
  
Clark stepped back nervously, though not to head-butt her again, and Joan stood up on two shakey legs.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she screamed at him. "Are you fuckin' crazy?"  
  
"You . . . you have powers . . . "  
  
"No shit, Sherlock!" hissed Joan, cursing like a sailor. She dusted herself off. "What has gotten into you?!"  
  
"Well . . . the last people who . . . had powers . . . have been . . . "  
  
"Hurry it up, Rainman."  
  
"They've been mean."  
  
Chloe looked at him. "Mean? They tried to kill us!"  
  
Clark nodded. "There was one guy who could freeze things. There was another girl who could change into anyone she wanted. Our coach made things catch on fire. One man turned himself young again . . . "  
  
"And they _all _were affected from the blast," Chloe finished for him, looking meaningfully at Joan.  
  
"So you tackled me to the ground?!" Joan roared.  
  
"I was trying to stop you!" Clark yelled.  
  
Joan put her knuckle to the bridge of her nose. "You are a flaming idiot, Clark."  
  
Clark pouted. "That's not what Elena said." (Read Nova Adams' Comic Geeks From The Fifth Dimension. It'll explain who Elena is.)  
  
"Elena? The girl in my English class?"  
  
"Yeah. You know her?"  
  
"Yeah. But this isn't about Elena! This is about you tackling me, you flaming IDIOT!"  
  
"Stop calling me that!"  
  
"Stop calling me an evil super-villain!"  
  
"I didn't!"  
  
"Yeah, but you were thinkin' it, weren't you?!"  
  
" . . . Maybe . . . "  
  
"I'm going home," Joan muttered, storming away.  
  
  
  
Joan sat in her room, flipping over her homework and reading Dangerous Angels by Francesca Lia Block when her phone rang. "Hello?" she answered.  
  
"Hey. Joan? This is Clark."  
  
"What, wanna knock me over again?"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"You should be."  
  
"I have something to tell you. Can I come over?"  
  
"I don't think . . . "  
  
"I'll be there in a second." There was a click and about ten seconds later, there was a knock at the door. Joan, very worried answered it to find Clark.  
  
"How on God's green earth did you - "  
  
"You're not the only one with powers," he smiled. "Do you have somewhere we could talk? Privately?"  
  
"Uhhh, yeah. The living room. Everyone's upstairs. What is it? How did you - ?"  
  
His smile was growing and growing. "Joan, I have an idea . . . "  
  
Joan gulped  
  
  
"NO, I WILL NOT BECOME A SUPERHERO WITH YOU AND ROAM AROUND SMALLVILLE AND METROPOLIS FIGHTING CRIME WITH YOU!!!!" Joan exclaimed.  
  
"Only Metropolis. It's my destiny!"  
  
"And mine is to kick you out of my house! Now go!"  
  
"Come on, please? You don't wanna be a superhero? Elena said - "  
  
Joan sighed. "Maybe, Clark. Maybe."  
  
"Really?"  
  
" . . . Tempted to say no, but yes. Maybe. I'll talk with you about it at school, okay?"  
  
"Okay," said Clark, still grinning. "Oh," he said, getting up to leave, "you won't tell anyone, will you, Joan?"  
  
"If you don't tell anyone about me."  
  
"Deal. See you at Elena's party."  
  
"Bye." Joan DeRobertis shut the door. "That was frikkin' _weird_." Joan was only happy that Clark hadn't tackled her again.  
  
_I get knocked down  
But I get up again  
You're never gonna get me down  
  
I get knocked down  
But I get up again  
You're never gonna get me down_  
  
"Ah, dammit," Joan muttered. "This can't be happening."  
  
"Joan? What's that music?" Joan's mother asked from her parents' room.  
  
_Pissing the night away  
Pissing the night away  
  
_  
"Nothing, Mom!" Joan called up to her, then muttered, "That last part was embarassing."  
_He takes a whiskey drink  
He takes a vodka drink  
He takes a lager drink  
He takes a cider drink_  
  
_He sings a song that reminds him  
Of the good times  
He sings a song that reminds him  
Of the better times  
  
Oh Danny Boy  
Danny Boy  
Danny Boy  
  
I get knocked down  
But I get up again  
You're never gonna get me down  
  
I get knocked down  
But I get up again  
You're never gonna get me down_


End file.
